


Come with Me

by Caius



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Valve Dom (Transformers), battlefield sex, consensual but probably shouldn't be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 16:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: Across the battlefield, Deadlock sees something he likes. Hot Rod goes with it, up to a point.Originally posted on tumblr May 27, 2017. Anonymous requested Deadlock/Hot Rod with "things you said under the stars and in the grass"





	Come with Me

“Come with me,” The Decepticon said, bathed in energon and soot, to the Autobot racer he’d cornered on the side of the battlefield. “Come with me. You can do better than this.”

“No!” Hot Rod replied, clutching his broken-off rifle like a club, or a shield. “I’m not a killer,” he lied.

The Decepticon laughed at him. “We’re all killers, here. Come with me and enjoy it.”

“No!” Hot Rod said, and he attacked, flailing with fist and broken rifle and panicked desperation.

The Decepticon didn’t stop laughing, not even when they were rolling together over alien vegetation, not even when he drove his fangs into Hot Rod’s armor, biting and tearing and – kissing?

“What–?” Hot Rod said, and then the teeth, and the soft wet lips, were on his own, and the hot breath seemed less like laughter after all.

A thick thigh had forced its way between Hot Rod’s legs, and he realized he wasn’t trying to kick it away, anymore, he was pushing up against it instead, and this was horrible and wrong but he was as good as dead already, had been since he was cornered.

He let himself kiss, and grind, and pull the warm frame closer rather than try to push it away.

“I knew you had it in you,” the Decepticon said, and Hot Rod almost pulled away again at the mocking voice. “You’ll be a good Decepticon.”

“Never,” Hot Rod said. But he let his spike release when he felt slick softness on his hips, and he pulled the lips and teeth back to his own as the Decepticon mounted him with a deft movement of his hips.

And then Hot Rod’s spike was wrapped in tight, hot strength, and he’d had lovers before but he’d never felt so _taken_. The valve squeezed and ripped and milked him as the powerful Decepticon rode him hard, arching up just to slam down again and grind against his array, spike lodged deep inside.

All Hot Rod could do was moan, and buck slightly, and be glad that he got this before his inevitable death.

“Come for me,” the Decepticon said, and he bit down deep on Hot Rod’s neck cables, and Hot Rod thought this was it, he was going to die now.

The valve drove down on him once more, one more hard ripple and grind as his spike erupted into the roughly coaxing valve and the fangs dug in deep.

Best way to die, Hot Rod thought, as everything dissolved into static.

Reality returned to him disappointingly quickly, although the Decepticon crouched over him, licking energon from his neck-wound as his valve casually dripping mixed fluids onto his abdominal plating, made him strongly doubt the reality he was experiencing.

“Come with me,” the Decepticon said, pulling back from his neck and wrapping one strong hand around Hot Rod’s sloppy, oversensitized spike.

“N-no,” Hot Rod said, although he wasn't sure right now why it was so important. Especially since the hand was rubbing him, and his spike was definitely starting to be interested again.

The touch got lighter for a second, as though the Decepticon were distracted by something. “Fragger!” the Decepticon grumbled. “Cowardly, bureaucratic Unicron-spawn…!”

“What?” Hot Rod asked. The hand was still on his spike, and the Decepticon was sitting on his legs, and altogether the mood change was extremely alarming.

“Not you, cutie.” The Decepticon gave his spike one final stroke then pulled away. “But I gotta go. When you change your mind…” The Decepticon had stood up, his panel closed and his recent activities nearly invisible. “I’m Deadlock. Look me up.”

Hot Rod gasped, and as he tried to process _that_ information, Deadlock transformed and zoomed off.

Hot Rod looked down at himself – covered in fluids and paint transfers, his traitor spike at attention – and groaned. “Why didn’t I die.”  



End file.
